Six and a Half More Times Poseidon Visited
by alwaysuptonogood
Summary: Sequel to Six Times Poseidon Visited . It's like Hermes said. "The hardest part about being a god is that you must often act indirectly, especially when it comes to your own children." SallyPoseidon PercyAnnabeth/Percabeth.
1. Visit Seven

It's been 361 days exactly since I last posted a visit from Poseidon. Talk about a dramatic build up :)

But I am back with "Six and a Half More Visits From Poseidon". Rejoice! I'm back in a Percy Jackson obsession stage after reading The Lost Hero. I can't actually WAIT until The Son of Neptune because I know that it is just going to be amazing (: Percy, at the Roman Camp, finding his parentage again, trying to remember Annabeth . . . squee!

Anyway, let's get back on topic! This series will take place during the course of the first series (Lightning Thief all the way to Last Olympian) and, maybe, if I get some great inspiration from this next upcoming series, in a couple of years time I will have another series :P I just want to thank you all so much for the response to the first series. It was . . . overwhelming, to say the least. I loved each and every one of your reviews, and I hope I receive a couple more on this story (:

Bring on the visits! I hope you enjoy them!

(This one takes place just after Percy leaves his mother and Gabe's apartment at the end of The Lightning Thief).

* * *

Sally Jackson had spent the past twelve years worrying about her son, and now here she was, sending him back off into the world after barely getting him back.

Back in her son's bedroom, she ran a hand over the top of the box he had left her. Did she really have the nerve to do it? Could she turn her husband – the lazy, oily, oaf that he was – into a statue? The thought seemed almost ridiculous, and she couldn't help but smile. Despite the negative situation of her son finally going to the place she had deep down known he belonged at for so many years, there were positives. Percy was safe. She was out of the Underworld. And Percy had met his father.

It wasn't the first time, of course . . . Poseidon had lingered in their lives probably even more than Sally was aware of, but as far as Percy knew it was the first time and she knew that despite his new 'strong, Son of the Sea God' determination, it had meant a lot to him.

'Sally! Oven's going off! Meatloaf's done!' There was silence filled with the sounds of wrestling commentary until he added, 'And someone's at the door!'

She cast one last look at the box before she left the room. Should she do it? _Could_ she do it? Gabe let out a roar of indignation at the television just as she reached the kitchen, turning the oven off before grabbing the keys to open the door. It was more than likely a reporter, wanting a statement from the 'valiant mother of Percy Jackson'. There had already been two at the door in the past hour.

'I'm sorry, but it's like I said to the other reporters, I –'

She stopped, eyes widening with more confusion than shock. Of course he was here.

'Sally,' said Poseidon, eyes twinkling the way she always remembered them to be.

'Oh.'

She wasn't really sure what she was expected to say. "Wow, thank you for talking to Percy." "Gosh, Poseidon, I owe you everything." 'Oh' seemed like the best option.

Poseidon looked at her peculiarly before asking, 'Can I come in?'

Saying nothing, Sally stepped to the side. Poseidon stepped in, door closing behind him, and glanced around the door at an oblivious Gabe.

'You're a very clever woman, Sally. I have no idea how you found a human with as bad a smell as him to mask Percy, but it worked well.'

She laughed before she could help herself. Turning away quickly, she pulled the meatloaf out of the oven in silence. It was a strange situation. It seemed so domestic for Poseidon to just . . . _be here_ like this, especially when he didn't have any outstanding reason to be.

_But_, said a tittering little voice in her head, _this isn't the first time. So he must care_.

It also wasn't the first time she had ignored her own thoughts.

When she could no longer find any excuse to not talk to him she turned back around. He was watching her with that curious light in his eyes, eyes which were so like Percy's . . . Sally sighed, leaning back against the cabinets and waiting for him to talk.

Eventually, he did, saying: 'I'm glad I got to speak to Percy.'

'You could have spoken to him earlier,' replied Sally tightly, arms absent-mindedly folding. 'You didn't have to wait until a situation like this to speak to him.' She knew, even as she spoke, that what she was saying wasn't true. Poseidon seemed to recognise this and he merely nodded, walking around the small kitchen with an unexpected air of familiarity.

'But,' started Sally, voice and arms loosening simultaneously, 'I . . . I have to thank you.' Poseidon did not seem to be expecting this, and usually the quizzical look in his eyes would have made her stop, but now she had started she didn't want to stop. She had completely forgotten the fact that Gabe was in the next room as she ploughed on. 'I know that you've helped keep Percy safe for twelve years. And you spoke to him. You didn't have to, but you did. So thank you.'

Again, Poseidon just nodded. Sally felt slightly annoyed that he was not bothering to even reply, but she knew that he was taking this in. She wanted to get angry at him, and shout and scream that he had never been a proper father to Percy but she just . . . she just _couldn't._

'Did Percy tell you about the package?'

Sally opened her mouth – whatever Poseidon said seemed to confuse her – but nodded, automatically glancing around the door at Gabe. He was still watching the wrestling, snorting as one guy hurled another to the ground before stamping on his mouth. She looked away, a cold smile on her face.

'And what are you going to do with it?'

Good question.

'I'm not sure,' she admitted slowly, eyes on the back of Gabe's repulsively balding head. 'I could . . . I don't know. I don't know whether I could, actually. I don't know if I have the nerve.'

'From what I know,' said Poseidon, an expression of sad understanding on his handsome face, 'he deserves it. But I'm not telling you to do anything. I'm just saying that . . . well, you don't need his smell anymore.'

Sally met his eyes as a surprisingly youthful smile was shared between the two. Deviousness was a trait she now realised Percy had obviously inherited from his father. The pair stood together, in silence. Sally glanced at the meatloaf which, she realised, was going cold . . . but if she delivered that surprise to Gabe before he got the chance to eat it . . . There. She'd made her decision.

'I should be going,' said Poseidon, hooking his sunglasses from the front pocket of his Hawaiian shirt. There hadn't been much of a point to his visit, Sally realised, but that barely mattered. He had visited. That was enough for her. He started to walk towards the door and all she could do was gawk before calling out, 'Wait!'

He turned back to her, sunglasses hiding his eyes.

'Now that you've spoken to Percy . . . I was just wondering . . . I mean - ' she swallowed, trying to restrain the hopefulness that tainted her words, 'Will you be more involved now?'

It sounded so pathetic, even more so than it had in her mind. Poseidon smiled a cheerless smile.

'You know I can't promise anything.'

Just like that, he was gone, leaving Sally staring at an empty doorway.

'SALLY! Where the hell is my meatloaf?'

Closing the door with one hand, Sally turned around to see Gabe stood there, hands on hips as he hooked a cigarette out of his pocket. She smiled with actual anticipation as she clapped her hands together and announced, 'It's coming, sweetheart. I'll bring it to you. Just go back to the wrestling . . .'

Percy may have inherited his cunning from his father, but Sally Jackson reckoned she must have had some fault in that, too . . .

* * *

Visit two shall be coming soon! (: xxx


	2. Visit Eight

Sorry for the wait! This chapter is longer, and a bit angstier, but that's just teenage life for you :P

Thank you all for your reviews!

This takes place between The Titan's Curse and The Battle of the Labyrinth :)

* * *

Percy's trainers skidded against the floor as he rounded another corner at full speed.

_Mom is going to kill me . . ._ he thought miserably, ducking as a pillar of fire seemed to fall upon him. Rolling over, he lunged for the familiar pen in his pocket and narrowly missed the bull's metal attack. Even a couple of feet away the heat seared into him. There wasn't long left until the end of the semester and there he was, ruining his chances of making a full year at a school. He had long ago accepted the fact that this could never happen, as had his mother, but it was nice to dream.

Letting out something between a grunt and a shout, he dodged out of the way of the bull and sprinted down the corridor. He wasn't trying to run away . . . he was trying to lead this thing away from his Math class where it had caught his eye in the first place. He wasn't sure what other students were hearing through the Mist, but it wasn't likely to be good.

'Come on!' he shouted, turning as he reached the doors. The bull was midway down the corridor, staring and snarling plumes of smoke, but apart from that doing nothing. 'Come on, you ugly –'

That did it. With a savage roar it hurtled towards him; without his Half-Blood reflexes, Percy would have been mulch on the wall. Darting to the side to let the bull through, he tripped back over a chair, muttering darkly to himself. He clambered up as quickly as possible, only to freeze – this was a stupid move. He was trapped. Eyes darting around for an escape, he backed up against the wall, Riptide in hand . . . there wasn't anything he could do – his sword was no use . . . this thing would just melt him . . . Gods, why hadn't he started using that extra-strong sunscreen Annabeth always went on about?

The idea triggered a thought in his head, and memories started rolling through him . . . getting expelled at the age of eight for setting off a fire alarm in his boarding school in Staten Island . . . setting it off with a lighter he had snatched from Smelly Gabe's pocket when he was passed out on the couch . . .

'You want to kill me, hey?' he said, panting slightly as he lowered his sword. 'Come and get me then.'

With a jump that astounded even him he leapt across and in front of one of the many fire alarms dotted around the school. The bull, being possibly as brain-dead as Clarisse, followed and –

The alarm broke out, shrill and piercing.

Smirking as water poured from the sprinklers - dousing the bull, which was now emitting steam and howling with anger – Percy found the bull's vulnerable spot. Twisting his sword around, he watched as it dissolved into nothing more than dust. The water was healing the burns on his arms already - burns that hadn't even hurt that much, he realised.

'PERCY JACKSON!'

Percy swore under his breath and turned around slowly, slipping Riptide back into his pocket and already anticipating the certain expulsion that awaited him.

**XXX**

'Wait in the car, Percy. I'm going to try and sort this out . . .'

He had been right. The school, already complaining of his decreasing grades and tendency to skip class (he couldn't help encountering monsters on the subway), didn't hesitate to expel him; Percy suspected that they had been searching for an excuse to for a while. Truthfully, Percy didn't care about any of that – it was just the look of disappointment on his mother's face when she walked into the school to speak to the Principal.

Percy sighed, settling down into the passenger seat of the car, his mood dire. There were times – more frequent nowadays – where he just wished his life could, sometimes, be normal. He wanted to be able to see his best friends normally, not just when Camp or life threatening situations allowed it, and to actually know what was going on in his life instead of slaving away because of some 'great prophecy' everybody else but himself could know about . . .

Just as he turned down the stereo, the music starting to give him a headache, he chanced a glance out of the window, to see –

'Dad?'

It was too far away for him to hear Percy, but he knew, without a doubt, that it was him. Who else would wear those shorts so casually, risking a resemblance to a tourist?

Fumbling for the handle, Percy climbed out of the car. Poseidon was on the other side of the street and, as he jogged across it, Percy couldn't help but let his bad mood peak slightly. This was something else he hated. His Dad choosing when he would unleash his 'holy presence' upon his son. Percy never got to choose when he saw him. He, apparently, didn't have that right.

'Hello . . .'

He wasn't sure what else to say. Poseidon turned to him, a surprisingly wary smile on his face.

'So,' he said, seemingly disregarding Percy's greeting altogether, 'can I ask what you did this time?'

Percy stared at his father with stormy eyes before looking away and muttering, 'There was a Colchis Bull. It decided to come and play while I went to the bathroom before Math.'

Poseidon gave a chuckle and started to walk, obviously expecting Percy to walk alongside of him, which he did, albeit grudgingly. He just wasn't in the mood.

'Why are you here?' he said, trying and failing to keep the accusation out of his voice.

Poseidon looked at him curiously. Percy didn't make eye contact; he did feel a little bad. He rarely saw his father and now, here he was, blatantly being rude to him. He was sure that if he had had the misfortune of talking to Zeus he would have by this point been blasted to smithereens.

'Is there something wrong with a father visiting his son?'

iThere is when I've only seen you about three times in my life and you choose to drop in just after I've been expelled/i, thought Percy bitterly, taking sudden interest in the sidewalk. He chose not to answer out loud at all. Poseidon sighed.

'I like this human pretence,' he said slowly, peering in through the window of a book store. 'It's . . . fascinating. It's something a God doesn't experience too often.'

Percy glanced around nervously. 'Perhaps you shouldn't say the God thing too loud . . .'

Poseidon chuckled, back to his previous light manner, and passed by the window without a second glance back. Percy had to jog slightly to catch up. Poseidon's appearance still didn't quite make sense.

'My Mom will be wondering where I am,' he said, glancing back to the car, but knowing that she probably wouldn't be back for a while. She was going to be doing her best to keep him in his school for the remainder of the semester, he knew it.

'You'll be back before she is,' said Poseidon calmly, now intrigued by a consignment store. Percy glanced in too, not taking any of it in. He knew, deep down, that he should be considering himself lucky. Many of his friends back at Camp would most probably kill for one-on-one time with their parents and here he was, throwing it back in his father's face.

But he couldn't help it. His mood was foul. At that moment, everything about his life annoyed him. He wanted normality, just for a while . . .

'So tell me,' started Poseidon, again losing all interest in the store he was previously so intrigued by. 'What's wrong with you?'

Percy looked up at him.

'Nothing,' he lied easily. 'I'm fine. I mean, it's not like I haven't been expelled before. It's no big deal.'

When he got no reply he turned away, only for his father to sigh and, with slight hesitation, place a hand on his shoulder.

'I know,' he said slowly, 'that you . . . don't completely like this life that you . . .' he stopped, trailing off uncomfortably. Percy waited, anticipating words that he knew he would never hear but craved so much.

'Whatever,' Percy cut in quickly. 'It doesn't matter. I don't care. I'm used to it, like I said –'

'No,' said Poseidon, his voice still eerily calm. 'No, I know you don't like it. Believe me, son, I know.'

Percy couldn't help but stare at him for a moment, mind working more than any other teenage boy in America's would at the use of the word "son". He doubted there were many who lacked so much attention from their father . . .

Poseidon coughed awkwardly, steering them around a corner as they continued on their little walk. The entire situation was, in Percy's opinion, bizarre.

'So you're here to talk to me,' said Percy, chancing another look up. Poseidon had slipped on his sunglasses, an act which Percy considered to be completely pointless. He knew he was just trying to avoid any unnecessary eye contact. He knew because he himself felt like doing it.

'Yes. I've said that, Percy.'

Percy glared at the ground, wanting to say something but restraining himself. He had so many things going on in his life at that moment, he couldn't afford to start up a rebellion against his father.

'How is your mother?'

Taken aback once again, Percy tripped over his own words.

'She's . . . Mom's fine. She's fine. I mean, she's got Paul now . . .'

Poseidon's face remained emotionless. Percy searched and searched for some kind of proof that this news affected him but with no prevail.

'But yeah,' he added, voice losing the lost bit of tone it had. 'She's doing just fine.'

'And,' said Poseidon, lowering his sunglasses, 'how are you?'

'How am I?' laughed Percy before he could stop himself. The entire situation had reached new levels of ridicule. His father had just asked how he was . . . after almost a year of seeing him . . . he had so many things he wanted to say to him, to ask him . . . there was so much he wanted to know . . .

'Yes,' repeated Poseidon. Whether he traced Percy's mood or not Percy didn't know; maybe he was ignoring it, trying to see past it. 'You, Percy. How are you? I haven't seen you in a while.'

iReally? I hadn't noticed./i

'I'm fine,' said Percy mechanically as they turned another corner. They had rounded the entire block – they were back where they had started. And, despite all of the yearning to ask his father so many questions . . . he couldn't wait to get away . . . this was the wrong time to see him, completely the wrong time . . .

'Are you?'

'Yes,' Percy shot back sharply.

'Percy -?'

'I'm fine!' he exclaimed, rounding on his father in an act so uncharacteristic he shocked himself. Poseidon, however, didn't seem to be in the slightest. In fact, he seemed slightly pleased. This just aggravated Percy further.

'I am fine,' he said through gritted teeth. 'I was fine last time I saw you, I'm fine now. Fine even though I've just been expelled for the billionth time because of something I can't even _help_.'

To emphasise his last word he aimed a kick at his mother's car wheel. The words wanted to keep on flowing but it was at that point that Sally Jackson approached them.

'Percy!' she exclaimed, not yet seeing her old lover. 'What are you doing? I said to wait in the – oh.'

Her words fell short at the sight of Poseidon. She moved towards her son instinctively and pursed her lips.

'Dad's here,' said Percy dryly.

Poseidon, still wearing the amused expression that had been irritating Percy so much, nodded.

'I just came to say hello,' he said, moving to pat Percy on the shoulder. Percy wanted to move but didn't, finding himself frozen to the spot.

Just as soon as he had arrived, he left. Sally turned to her son, stunned.

'What was he -?'

'I . . .' started Percy, his sour mood lifting slightly. 'I don't know.'

**XXX**

Poseidon walked through New York, looking like any other tourist taking advantage of the New York weather, still faintly amused. His visit with his son had, as per the usual, been brief . . . but it was the purpose that mattered.

As Percy Jackson sped back to his apartment with his mother, he realised that. His father worked in mysterious ways, angering him more to extract the annoyance already there.

And yet, it had worked.

* * *

Thank you for reading - reviews feed my FanFiction addiction, and give me enthusiasm!


	3. Visit Nine

I bet you weren't expecting this little update, were you? ;)

I'm so sorry for not updating sooner. I think we can all agree that I suck in that respect. Who else is ridiculously excited for Son of Neptune? CANNOT. WAIT. OH. DEAR. GOD.

I love you all, thank you all for your reviews - this chapter's different than usual, because - for once - the person being visited isn't Sally or Percy ;)

This is set in Percy Jackson & The Battle of the Labyrinth (my favourite one) when Percy is missing after the incident at Mt. St. Helens.

* * *

'_. . . top volcanologists say that the explosion currently going on at Mt. St. Helens is one of the worst witnessed in over –'_

'Chiron,' said Annabeth pointedly, turning away in her seat. Nobody said anything as Chiron did so, understanding completely the circumstances. Percy had been missing for days, and Annabeth was his . . . best friend. His best friend who had kissed him goodbye -

'Annabeth,' said Chiron gently, moving across to her as silence fell around them. 'Percy has been gone for a while now. We haven't heard from him for days. Perhaps we should –'

'I'm just going to go and . . .' Annabeth started, abrupt as she pushed her chair back and left. She knew everybody was staring at her, and that everybody was, in their own ways, judging her . . . She didn't care.

She stormed from the Big House and into the Athena cabin. It was empty, her half-brothers and half-sisters either with Chiron or out training. She perched on the edge of her bed, staring at the door as though it herself was the reason behind her misery. Stupid Seaweed Brain! Did he have to try and save everyone? _She _could have fought off those telkhines herself, he didn't have to go and die –

No. He wasn't dead.

Annabeth pulled out her cell phone – she wasn't supposed to have it there at Camp, but she was sure Chiron would let her off anything right now. She scrolled through her contacts, hovering over Percy's name before ringing it.

He didn't answer, just like the seven other times.

Sally Jackson was her next victim. She answered after it rang just three times.

'Hello?'

Annabeth moved to lean against the wall.

'Sally? It's me, Annabeth.'

'Oh,' sighed Sally, the franticness in her voice decreasing slightly so she instead just sounded exhausted. 'Thank God. I thought that . . . never mind. Have you heard anything from Percy?'

'No,' said Annabeth, her voice somewhat hoarse. 'I rang hoping that you would have done.'

'I keep watching the news,' said Sally, her voice now getting quicker and quicker with each word she spoke. 'They keep saying that the explosion is even bigger than the one they had in the eighties. I don't think Percy is dead, Annabeth, but how could he have survived that?'

Annabeth suddenly regretted calling Sally. She had hoped to hear news of any kind but instead she found herself feeling something she had thought impossible – even worse. She made her excuses and quickly disconnected, burying her cell phone deep under her pillow.

It all felt too warm suddenly, her cabin felt far too hot . . . Annabeth climbed up, hurrying from the Athena cabin to go – to go _somewhere_ . . . somewhere cooler, somewhere with a state of normality . . .

Not sure how she had ended up there, or why her feet had decided to _take_ her there, Annabeth Chase found herself alone in the Poseidon cabin.

Strewn with Percy's junk and as cool and salty as ever, it could have been any other day.

'You idiot,' she murmured to herself, letting the door close behind her as she moved towards the middle of the cabin. Percy's bed was unmade, Tyson's beautifully so. 'You stupid, brave –'

She would have perhaps gone on to say worst but was interrupted by another voice.

'I understand that my son is missed?'

To say Annabeth was shocked was an understatement. She turned, hair whipping around as she saw a man stood in front of her – a man in beach shorts and shirt, looking as far from his true self as he could.

'Poseidon?' she said before she could stop herself. 'I – I mean, er, my lord –'

Receiving an offhand look Annabeth fell silent. Poseidon circled the cabin in just a few strides, looking around, almost amused. Annabeth watched him incredulously. Gods didn't just show up at Camp Half-Blood, for them to do so was bizarre, and if they did it was with much fanfare and warning beforehand.

'Have you heard anything?' she said anxiously, breaking the silence. The fear of being told off for being in a cabin unrelated to herself had evaporated completely.

Poseidon didn't answer straight away, instead taking great care in examining a mural of himself on a wall. Annabeth watched from a distance, yearning to ask more and more questions. When he finally turned back towards her – Annabeth now restraining an impatient sigh – he sighed.

'Percy is far away,' he said, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly. 'But I perhaps wouldn't worry too much.'

Annabeth felt like laughing but thought better of it. She was in the presence of _Poseidon_ – she wasn't the daughter of the Goddess of Wisdom for nothing. Her best friend was, however, missing. She could hardly be expected to sit back and be _normal_.

'No disrespect intended, sir,' she said, voice rushed as she itched to get to the important part. 'I don't understand you saying not to worry. He's been gone almost a week.' Her eyes fell on her shoes, which in her opinion suddenly seemed to be the height of interest. 'Chiron suggested that we should start designing a shroud . . .'

As she gathered the nerve to look up again, she saw the amused look on Poseidon's face. She had never directly spoken to him before – in fact she had rarely ever spoken directly to a God other than Mr D – but he sure was beginning to irritate her. What was he smiling for when his son was _missing_ and had been for six days? How could he be smiling after his son had most probably been fried by a volcano?

'I'm sorry,' murmured Annabeth, fully intent on leaving this cabin and Poseidon. She shouldn't have come in the first place; it had done nothing to improve her mood, nothing in the slightest. 'I shouldn't have come. I'll just . . . go . . . I shouldn't even be in here . . .'

'I am quite amused by all of this,' said Poseidon suddenly, appearing to disregard her words totally. Annabeth felt a flash of annoyance shock her. Not to be disrespectful to Percy, but she was not particularly impressed by Poseidon's feelings as a parent.

'Sir, shouldn't you be worried?' she said before she could stop herself. Poseidon turned to look at her with mild interest. 'I mean, Percy is your son after all. I would have thought you'd be a bit more upset that he might be –' She stopped herself, both from fear of saying the word that had been coming and fear of angering Poseidon.

'I do not think my son is dead,' said Poseidon, only seeming mildly insulted by her complete and utter lack of faith. 'Far from it, daughter of Athena.'

'Annabeth,' she muttered. Poseidon ignored her.

'My son is truly a son of Poseidon,' he continued, looking around the cabin in a way that suggested he found it much more intriguing than Annabeth herself. 'He is not at all unlike me.'

Annabeth said nothing, for she had no idea what Poseidon meant by that. Was he trying to suggest that Percy had escaped but was growing a beard before he came back?

When Poseidon turned back to Annabeth, he made one last surprising move and put a hand on her shoulder.

'Percy was named after Perseus, one of the few demi-gods who was fortunate enough to have a happy ending.' He gave a smile and withdrew his hand. 'His mother knew what she was doing. I very much doubt something as small as a volcano can kill my son.'

He laughed as if making some extremely witty joke, but Annabeth didn't feel much like laughing along. Far from it, in fact. She frowned.

'Er, Mr, er, Poseidon, if you know for sure that Percy isn't –' she hesitated '-dead, then why don't you –'

'I never said that he definitely wasn't dead,' said Poseidon, all traces of amusement vanishing to leave a face of indifference. 'I cannot interfere.' His eyes flashed with something Annabeth might have considered to be amusement.

'And now,' said Poseidon, gaze travelling from one bed to the next, 'I am afraid I must leave. This was intended to be a quick visit, after all. I will excuse you for being in the Poseidon cabin if you don't tell your mother I visited.' He winked at Annabeth in a way which brought Percy back to mind in all too a painful rush of memories.

'OK,' said Annabeth slowly, still barely able to comprehend the fact that Poseidon was _here_, at Camp Half-Blood. His reassurances of Percy's survival had not quite sunk in yet, but she was sure they would in time – if Chiron and the constant stream of sympathy didn't get her down before then.

And then, oh so suddenly, Poseidon was gone as quickly as he'd came, and, before Annabeth could so much as glimpse around the room, Silena came rushing in.

'Annabeth? We've been looking for you everywhere! What are you doing in here? Come on, out, before Chiron finds you!'

But she waited, and she seemed to understand why Annabeth had come in the first place as she closed the cabin door shut behind her. At least, when she asked why Annabeth was so pale, she didn't judge her when she replied:

'I suddenly really quite like the sea, you know.'

* * *

Review! Inspire me, oh blessed reviewers! :P


	4. Visit Ten

Holy Poseidon. I'm an awful updater, am I not? (Don't feel the need to deny it. I know it's true. :P)

Let's talk Son of Neptune for a moment - IT WAS AMAZING. I wasn't very keen on Lost Hero but I really, really enjoyed this one . . . except for that god-damned ending! WHY YOU TROLL US, RICK? WHY? Anyway, on a lighter note, it provided me with inspiration - so here's this chapter, and, if you go to my profile, the first chapter of my very own** Mark of Athena** :) Unlike other Mark of Athena's (none of which I have read, but I know that they will be out there) I will actually update it. But you know me. I can't guarantee fast updates . . . it's just not in my character ;) I do have it all planned out though, so . . . we'll see how that goes (:

I took inspiration from the line at the end of Battle of the Labyrinth (which is when this is set) "It took a little work to convince Paul that Poseidon had left via the fire escape . . . " I elaborated, of course. That scene with Percy and Poseidon at the end of BOL is one of my favourites - you know I love all that father and son stuff. Perhaps that's my daddy issues coming out on me :P

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think and I promise to try and update soon! xoxo

* * *

'So he's . . . Percy's father?'

Sally nodded and tried her best not to smile. She felt surprisingly at ease with the entire situation, although it couldn't be considered a normal one – her Greek God lover of years long gone dropping in at her and her boyfriend's home to talk to his demi-god son. Sure, it was bizarre, but in what had become of their life lately, this was normality.

'Yes.'

'And his name is . . . Poseidon?'

'He's quite a mythology enthusiast,' she said.

The urge to laugh was almost overwhelming now. Paul's expression was one of complete confusion; he evidently thought that this was all just one big joke. Sally's lips twitched – she couldn't wait until the time came for him to actually find out the truth . . .

Tyson turned to Paul with a face of pure jubilation.

'Daddy's here for Percy's birthday!' he said brightly, wringing his enormous hands together. 'I think Percy is happy. It is a nice surprise for him to come so far –'

'Yes, well, Percy doesn't see his father very often,' Sally said quickly, determined to veer Paul from the topic. She felt like it should be Percy's decision when Paul should find out about Percy's heritage, and with the way Tyson was going, the secret would be spilled within the next thirty seconds. 'Tyson, why don't you help me –'

'Daddy is very proud of Percy,' he ploughed on, big brown eye batting innocently. Sally wanted to slap a hand to her forehead, but the calmer she stayed the less chance there was of Paul finding out the truth –

'Percy has done very much. Percy was almost dead, but he didn't die, and I think Daddy is very happy that Percy did not die. I like it when Percy isn't dead. He's better when he's not dead.'

Paul tried to say something but nothing came out. Tyson seemed to have realised he was saying something wrong – clapping a hand over his mouth, he turned to Sally.

'I am sorry!'

'Tyson, it's fine,' said Sally gently, putting a hand on his shoulder while glancing fearfully at the door. She wanted to know what he was saying, how Percy was reacting, everything and anything because she had no idea about the state of their relationship in the slightest. She had been too nervous to ask. What if it was worse than what she had in mind? What if it was better?

'He . . . his name is Poseidon?'

Sally nodded and said nothing, instead taking a great deal of interest on the still burning candles.

'And he's . . . he's, ah – meaning to say, he's perfectly sane?'

Paul's face was flushed red as if simply asking the question would set either Sally or Tyson off. Perhaps he thought that even Poseidon would hear him and storm back into the living room to beat him up. Sally was too busy trying not to laugh again to give it much thought.

'And you're . . . sure that he's –'

Tyson was looking at Paul as if he had just suggested that Poseidon was God of Bags, or something.

'Daddy . . .' he said, his voice seemingly close to breaking. 'He is –'

Paul rushed to correct his mistake and Sally had to laugh this time. Resting a hand on Tyson's shoulder once again, she said, 'Tyson, he doesn't understand, OK? Now how about you help me -'

'Understand what exactly?' said Paul, looking less and less confused and more and more irritated. 'Sally, what is going on? Surely Percy's father is – I mean, he isn't – what's going on?'

'Nothing,' said Sally innocently, eyes focused on the slowly dwindling candle. 'Absolutely nothing. He's Percy's father, that's all –' Tyson made a noise of protest. '- and Tyson's father. He's simply . . . very keen on his mythology.'

'Very keen on his mythology,' murmured Paul. He seemed extremely confused. 'He's . . . very keen on his mythology. OK.'

Tyson seemed to have finally caught on and started laughing in a manner extremely similar to a giggle. Sally smiled; even if Tyson was her son, she really didn't think she would care. He had to be the most lovely mythological creature to have ever roamed the earth. Percy couldn't have been sent a better brother.

'And Tyson is . . . Tyson is . . . Poseidon's son?'

'Yes,' said Sally, leaning back against the table to enjoy watching Paul struggling to grasp the entire thing. 'Poseidon's son, Percy's brother. Not my son, Paul, so you can calm down.'

Paul still didn't seem overly convinced. He kept throwing the kitchen door bewildered looks, as if expecting Poseidon to burst from it and admit his mental instability. Sally was no longer smiling, however. In fact, she felt slightly guilty for smiling before. Should she be so happy that he was here? Her mind flashed to all those other times Poseidon had visited, times she had failed to let Paul know about. Paul deserved to know the truth sometime soon – about Percy, about Camp Half-Blood, about _everything_, but she couldn't bring herself to do it . . . and was it because she wanted to preserve whatever it was of a relationship she and Poseidon had left?

'Annabeth doesn't like Daddy,' said Tyson. His previous realisation seemed to have slipped his brain already. 'I don't know why, though. Daddy is nice. He sent me Percy, and Percy says he sent me to him.'

Paul's face wrinkled with confusion.

'Tyson!'

'But I am just saying that Daddy is good! Annabeth doesn't understand, but I like Annabeth because Annabeth is nice to me.'

'Yes, Tyson, I –'

'-and Percy says that Annabeth's Mom just doesn't like us very much, and Daddy doesn't like her –'

'Tyson, just –'

'Oh, let me guess,' said Paul warily, collapsing down into a chair. He looked up at Sally and said, 'Annabeth's mother is . . . Aphrodite, or something?'

Tyson looked at Paul like he had lost his mind; Sally clapped a hand to her forehead and passed Tyson a cupcake, hoping it would serve as a distraction from declaring Annabeth's true heritage: Sally really didn't think Paul would believe that both Annabeth's mother and Percy's father just so happened to be named after Greek Gods . . .

'Sally, what –'

'Percy? The candles are melting!' Sally called, turning her back on Paul to face the kitchen door and hide her burning cheeks. She couldn't help herself – despite everything, despite Paul, despite Percy and Tyson – wanting Poseidon to stride out of that kitchen with his son, _their _son, but she knew it just wouldn't happen.

And so she was proved right when Percy entered the living room unaccompanied, clutching something in his hand but otherwise perfectly alone.

'Everything OK?' said Sally, finding herself still unable to turn back to Paul, her gaze drawn to whatever it was in Percy's fist.

'Yeah . . .' Percy clenched the item tighter. Sally looked away. He had obviously noticed her looking, but she wouldn't push him tonight. He could keep it to himself – whatever it was. It would be between the pair of them – he and his father.

'Where's Poseidon?' asked Paul, in a voice that was obviously supposed to be casual.

'He, er . . . climbed down the fire escape.'

Sally didn't have to look at Paul to know that he would be disbelieving of this new revelation, too.

'The – the fire escape? Is that safe? And at this time of night?'

'Yeah, well . . .' said Percy, rubbing the back of his neck and moving to stand beside Tyson. 'Dad's, er, a bit . . . weird like that. He does crazy stuff like . . . climbing down, um, fire escapes at night.'

Tyson seemed to find Percy's explanation extremely amusing. Paul was about as convinced as he would be at being told Sally was secretly Wonder Woman, and he was asking as many questions as he would have done then.

'Can you get to the fire escape from the kitchen?'

'Of course! Percy, come on, let's blow out your candles –'

'Wait, why has Tyson already got a cupcake? I wanted a cupcake before and you said I had to wait!'

'Because,' said Sally, eyes narrowing pointedly and her back to Paul once more, 'Tyson was being rather talkative.'

Percy opened and closed his mouth, remarkably similar to a fish. He'd obviously got the idea. Tyson grinned at his brother through a mouthful of cake and Percy was rendered unable not to smile at the sight of him.

They sang a hasty chorus of 'Happy Birthday' but Tyson accidentally blew out the candles halfway through. Percy didn't seem to mind, laughing as Tyson took a bite out of a candle in his rush to eat his piece of cake. Sally watched on, smiling, and turned to Paul once Percy and Tyson lapsed into conversation.

'Cake?' she said, not waiting for an answer before she passed it over. Paul accepted it warily, still peering at the kitchen door as if expecting Poseidon to burst out in all of his raving lunatic glory.

'So . . . Poseidon . . . climbed down the –'

'Oh, yes, the fire escape,' said Sally, laughing nervously. 'He's always doing it. He's an adrenaline junkie, you see. Climbing down fire-escapes . . . it's just his thing, Paul. Just ask Percy.' Percy looked up at the mention of his name. 'I was just telling Paul about how your Dad's a bit . . . strange.' She could see the corners of Percy's mouth twitching and Sally had to keep telling herself that laughing would give the game away entirely.

'Yeah,' he said, and Sally's smile grew at the chocolate that had found its way onto his cheek. 'Yeah, Dad's . . . crazy. Crazy as a fish.'

Sally threw him a warning look and turned back to her boyfriend. He hadn't touched his cake.

_Gods above, was he going to hang onto this all night?_

'Is he OK? Climbing down the fire-escape . . . it's a bit dangerous, after all. He could have fallen.'

Tyson began to say something and Percy hastily forced another piece of cake upon him.

'Oh, I assure you, he's very careful,' said Sally. 'Paul, eat your cake –'

'A fire-escape above New York's hardly the world's safest –'

'Paul, I promise you –'

'. . . It's just, the fire-escape? Sally, it's a bit –'

'Oh, Paul, just eat –'

'The fire-escape!'

'Paul!' exclaimed Percy. 'You're gonna drop your cake, my Dad's gone down the fire-escape – he couldn't just evaporate, could he? - everything is just fine! Mom, don't we have some ice cream?'

'Yes,' sighed Sally, taking Paul's unfinished cake from him and putting it back down onto her plate. He was still watching the kitchen door with keen interest and so it was with a roll of her eyes and a lot of bravado that Sally swung it open to reveal an empty room.

'Paul, he's not in here! Either Percy imagined him going down the fire-escape and he evaporated, or . . .' She smiled and entered the room, leaving a still bewildered Paul with her son and his Cyclops brother. The door swung shut behind her, and suddenly she was overwhelmed with the strongest of smells – one that most people probably wouldn't have noticed so notably, but Sally did and always would for the rest of her life . . . A scent like ocean spray, salty and warm . . .

Sally stayed in there for five minutes and it was only when Percy called to ask what flavour ice cream was left that she was brought back to her senses. She knew what she had been thinking and she cursed herself for thinking it. She had a boyfriend, one who she hoped and predicted might one day marry her.

It didn't change anything. For years after her eventual marriage – in fact, until her last days in that world – Sally found herself searching for, hoping for that smell. One that only came to her on rare days like this.

They were the best days.

* * *

Love you, love you, love you all! Please check out my Mark of Athena story . . . and, until next time, stay safe and happy my fellow demi-gods! xoxo


End file.
